Scarlet
by DistantDreamer4
Summary: Meredith doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, she wears it on her hands.


Title: Scarlet  
Author: Waiting For A Star to Fall  
Rating: M  
Spoiler: Through the end of Season 2.  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, I just borrowed them.  
Keywords: Meredith, Izzie, Meredith/Derek, Meredith/Finn  
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at fanfic, so please be kind. Comments and constructive criticism always appreciated!

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During the time Meredith dated Derek, Izzie begged her to stay home one evening so they could have a girls' night – chick flicks, snack foods, and manicures. Meredith was skeptical about nail polish but picked a soft pink shade. Izzie was pleased with her choice. "Pink," she told Meredith as she began the first coat, "is a happy color." Meredith must have agreed, because she left it on for weeks afterward.

**_Happy._**

The morning after Addison Shepherd arrived in Seattle and made her existence known, Meredith's nails were broken and jagged; fragments of the happy pink polish chipped away like the shattering realization that the relationship she thought she had was all a lie.

_**Shattered.**_

When Derek told Meredith that Addison had filed for divorce and would be leaving, Meredith stopped biting her nails. Maybe it was because she wasn't eating well, or maybe it was the stress related to the wife who that it appeared would never leave, but her nails seemed to be weak and would break off before they could ever grow.

**_Fragile._**

In the day following the one in which Derek choose Addison, Izzie refused to let Meredith go to Joe's. Meredith instead toted a bottle of tequila around the house, clearly on a mission as she searched packed boxes. Finally finding the sought after item – nail polish – she settled down on the floor next to the box and begin to paint her nails. Black. It was no matter that she spilled the bottle twice on her mother's Oriental carpet or that she was getting more of the polish on her skin than her nails. The act was oddly gratifying and no amount of pleading from Izzie would make her cease.

**_Dark._**

Hours later, Meredith finally passed out, and Izzie – who had given up trying to stop Meredith's tequila-and-nail-polish-self-destruction long before – sat down on the floor beside her friend. Taking Meredith's limp hand in hers, she got to work with cotton balls and nail polish remover in an attempt to scrub away the darkness.

**_Exposed._**

After Meredith recuperated from yet another run-in with tequila, she saw the nail clippers laying on the counter and grabbed them. She clipped and clipped viciously, and before she really realized what she had done, her nails were cut to the quick. She kept them that way – painfully short – for months, because the severity served as a personal reminder.

**_Bare._**

Just days after her first date with Finn, Meredith spied that pink polish on the kitchen counter. She picked the bottle up and looked at her nails, contemplating her next move. Shaking her head, she set the polish back down. Not yet. But she was considering the possibility.

**_Recovering._**

Due to the combination of the tears stinging her eyes and rushing to escape the suffocating stairwell, she miscalculated the location of the doorknob. She jammed the tip of her finger into the casing around the door, causing her entire hand to throb in pain and making her momentarily forget the bigger ache deep within.

**_Hurt._**

She heard his words, was unable to wrap her head around their meanings. Not after all that had been said, not after all that had been done. Then, everything was forgotten in that moment when his lips were on hers, when their hands roamed freely in remembrance, when he was inside of her again. Grasping to pull him closer, Meredith pressed her nails through the fabric of his clothing as Derek loved her once more.

_**Loving.**_

Standing there before her were two men, both desperately vying for her affection – both of them, at the same time, deserving and not deserving of that affection for different reasons. Unable to stand there and make a choice, she grabbed the skirt of her dress and ran. The fabric caught on a hangnail, and the movement of fleeing pulled on the snag, tearing the nail clean across.

**_Torn._**

Home alone and drunk, she wanders into Izzie's empty room. Noting the polishes on the vanity, she stumbles over and plucks a bright red one from the collection. Meredith has always found reds in this shade to be gaudy, too showy. Trashy. Today, she muses – cynically – as she thinks back on her actions, the color fits.

_**Scarlet. **_

**_Like Meredith._**


End file.
